


Zoetic

by PurpleArrowzandLeather



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Son of Batman (2014), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, semi-decent resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 14:05:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18412157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArrowzandLeather/pseuds/PurpleArrowzandLeather
Summary: Jason goes inside a burning building to save people who are trapped in their apartments. He doesn't come out.





	1. Driven

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of sorry. Not really. :(

          It’s almost midnight when Jason hears a report on his police scanner. He takes off running towards the street address and leaps from the building on which he had been perched. He fires his grapple, swinging across a gap as quickly as possible. He briefly wonders how close any of the others are to the building, but he supposes he’s going to find out.  

          It takes him three minutes to arrive at the scene, and by that time, the building is already blazing. He can hear the screams and cries for help on the inside, the exits blocked by fallen debris and windows too high up to jump. In a morbid moment of humor, he wonders who left the oven on. 

          Jason swings inside, crashing through a window feet first to enter. The room he’s in is fire-free so far, so he continues on his way. He opens the door, trusting his helmet to keep out the majority of the smoke. He’s just lucky he’s pulled a trick out of Bruce’s hat and gotten clothing that’s fire-retardant. It’s not great, but it’ll do. 

          “Hello?! Scream if you’re still alive!” 

          Jason starts breaking down doors as people start to call out for help again. He finds a man and his daughter in one room and the guy orders Jason to take her first. Jason tells him to keep close as he hefts the girl onto his shoulder. He heads directly for the window that he came in through, using his grappling line to lower the two of them. He almost drops the man as he slips down the line, but he manages to lower him to the ground.  

          “Get out of here!” Jason yells down, watching the pair of them flee. 

          Jason heads back inside, ducking his head as part of the floor above comes down. He clears apartments as quickly as he can, lowering people from the closest window until the room is no longer accessible. He lifts his arm as his sleeve catches fire, batting it out a little absently as he rushes up the stairs to the top floor. It’s worse, the ceiling already patchy and beams hanging down into the hall. It must be where the fire started. One family is actually in the hallway itself, huddled in a corner. The parents and two boys had apparently failed at finding a way out. Jason coughs, shielding his head with an arm as he moves closer to them.  

          “Follow me and don’t fall behind!” 

          As he’s lowering the two boys from another window, he hears the wail of sirens in the distance. Jason thinks he might even see a reporter down on the ground as he lowers the father. It’s always sad when the reporters have better response time than the firefighters.  

          He retreats back inside, kicking in an apartment door and watching as the fire escape outside the window goes crashing down. He doesn’t have the time to wonder how many people died because of it, so he moves on. He continues to pull people out even when his chest heaves with breaths and his arms ache. He’s just turning to head for the second floor now that the top is empty when the floor breaks out from under him. He crashes to the floor below, groaning as he picks himself up. He gives himself a shake, a little dizzy now. He coughs, eyes burning with the smoke as it fights its way under his helmet. The filter is doing what it can, but there isn’t much oxygen left around him.  

          Jason makes his way to the emergency exit, swinging a leg over the railing and dropping down a level. He opens the door, ducking as flames fly in over his head. It’s a little better, but that won’t matter soon. He stumbles as a little ceiling crumbles over him, peppering his shoulders as he passes. An old lady locks eyes with him when he enters her apartment, steely determination in her gaze. Jason understands. She didn’t survive Gotham this long just to die in a burning building.  

          She waddles away once she’s on the ground, getting just far enough back to see what’s going on. Jason keeps searching. He pulls out three more guys, two more families of three and a lone seven-year-old boy. His breaths are more like wheezes now and his clothes are wet with sweat and ash. The first floor appears to be mostly empty when he reaches it, but the fire has reached the rooms. The walls are coming down, so Jason starts making his way back up through holes in the floor. There isn’t a good exit in sight, doorways and windows falling with the walls. The holes in the ceiling are shrouded with flames and Jason yelps as a beam crashes down through one. He climbs up, coughing slowing him down and fire licking at his sides. He’s too drenched with sweat to catch on fire and considers himself vaguely lucky. He only just makes it to the top floor, and the roof seems so far away. The heat seems all too familiar. 

          It’s when the building seems to take a breath does he stop.  _It’s over_. 

          The ceiling collapses entirely and Jason screams as it hits him. He goes down, everything going dark as the building implodes.  

****** 

          Bruce arrives on scene with Tim and Dick in tow. They’d been listening to the reports over the radio the whole way there. As long as the Red Hood sightings continued, they should have been in the clear.  

          That is unfortunately not the case.  

          The firetrucks are waiting on the sidelines, the fire out, but the building rubble on the ground. He glides down into the wreckage, ignoring the shouts of the firemen as he starts to picks through the rubble. Jason would have called them if he’d made it out. He always does, no matter what kind of terms they’re on. At current, they're doing pretty well.

          Tim and Dick start helping him look, Tim’s uniform turning black with soot rather quickly. Bruce shoves aside a support beam, his heart thundering in his chest.  _Not my boy. Not again._  

          Bruce moves to the north side, clambering over a large chunk of building and sliding down on the other side. At least he'll be out of visible range. He digs around for Jason for a long time. His breaths catch as he starts to panic inside, looking out at the police barricade where the cops are waiting to come in. For once, it looks like they’re leaving the vigilantes alone as they search.  

          His hands slow as they scrape across leather, becoming more gentle. He lifts up a chunk of cement, pushing it off of the curled frame of his son. There’s a large hole in the shoulder of his jacket, blood steadily flowing from a gash. At least it’s not spurting.  

          “Hood? Can you hear me?” 

          Jason groans, turning his head a little. The face of his helmet is cracked open, a bruise on his cheek and his lip split. His nose is bloody, but it doesn’t look broken.  

          “Hood?” 

          Jason coughs, blood puffing from his lips. He opens one eye, his other swollen shut already. Bruce places a careful hand on the release for his helmet, pulling what’s left off of him. He chokes on a whimper, blood dripping from his lips. He sucks in a breath that sounds just as painful as it looks.  

          “B?” 

          “Yeah, it’s me, kiddo. It’s okay.” 

          He huffs, some semblance of a laugh leaving him. “It… it doesn’t f-feel okay.” 

          “Just don’t move.” 

          Bruce scans him as he lays there, letting the other boys continue to look to buy himself a little time. Jason wheezes, his face scrunching with pain. Bruce doesn’t want to tell him the truth. To tell him that he’s not going to make it. So he doesn’t. 

          “It’s okay, son.” 

          Jason whimpers. “Please, B. D-don’t lie to me. I can… I can see it in your eyes.” 

          Bruce grimaces, lowering himself into the rut with Jason. “It’s going to be okay.” 

          With the greatest of care, Bruce pulls Jason into his arms. He’s trembling, his entire body in shock. Jason presses his face into Bruce’s chest, breaths shaking out of his battered form as Bruce rests his chin on top of Jason’s head. He rubs Jason’s back, looking up at the smoky sky to hide the pleading of his own agony.  

          “M’sorry, B. M’s-sorry. So sorry-“ 

          “Shh. It’s okay, kiddo. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I should have been here for you.” 

          Jason coughs roughly, dragging in a careful breath. “Y-you are.” 

          Bruce cards his fingers through Jason’s hair, tears starting to fall down his face. There’s blood in the dark, bunched locks. Jason sighs, sinking a little closer to his chest. Bruce rocks with him, quieting him even as his own breaths become choked.  

          “Hmm. That’s- that’s not bad.” Jason mumbles. “S’nice.” 

          “Shhh.” 

          Bruce hears the footsteps of his other two sons and he finds himself glad that Damian isn’t here to see this.  “Batman, what’s-” Their footsteps stop. There’s a quiet pause and one set of steps retreats. He can imagine what Dick’s doing. His hands are likely pushing back his unruly hair, his expression guilty and pained. He’ll sink to the ground when it hits him. Tim will just stand there until Bruce leaves. 

          “D-dad?” 

          Bruce pulls air in sharply through his nose to steady himself. “Yeah, kiddo?” 

          “Don’t bury me this... this time. I don’t... I don’t wanna wake up u-underground. Don’... don’ wanna be alone.”  

          Bruce tries hard not to shake, Jason’s tone so sure that it breaks his heart. “Okay, Jason.” 

          “You promise?”  

          Bruce lets out a shuddery breath, moving his head a little so only Jason can hear. “ _I promise, baby. I promise, all right?_ ” 

          Jason’s chest hitches as he lets out a short laugh. “You ain’... ain’t called me that s-since I was...” He sinks lower against Bruce’s chest. “... _since I was real little_.” 

          Bruce loses his composure as Jason stills. He doesn’t care who’s watching. He muffles quiet sobs in Jason’s hair, blood smearing onto his face. He hears Dick crash to the ground behind him, but he can’t bring himself to move. Bruce wants to beg for it not to be true, but it is. He knows better by now than to deny it. 

          Tim is the one to pull them together before the camera crews get too close. “B, pick him up. Nightwing, come on. We have to go.” 

          Dick staggers to his feet, peering around some rubble to check on the police barricade. “Ti... I mean, Red Robin’s right. We have to move, B. They won’t stay back much longer.” 

          Bruce hefts Jason up after a long moment, handling him as if he were still alive. They make their way towards the edge of the building where Jim is waiting. 

          “Batman! Is he going to be all right?” 

          Bruce’s lips draw into a thin line and he knows Jim is going to see straight through any lie. He doesn’t care. Jim will know that it’s what he wants the press to be told. “He’s going to be fine.” 

          They grapple away before he can ask any questions, leaving the whole scene behind as quickly as possible. Once they reach the Batmobile, Dick rides with Jason’s body in the backseat and Bruce tries to ignore the muffled crying as much as possible. He looks at Tim, whose expression is blank. Bruce doesn’t know what to say to him. Tim turns his head, pulling his cowl back and staring at his empty hands in his lap. He doesn’t know what to say, but he supposes that there isn’t much one can say when a son and sibling dies a second time. 

          The ride to the Batcave seems short and long all at once, and Bruce dreads the look that he knows will be on Alfred’s face. Even knowing that it’s inevitable, it doesn’t stop him from sitting in the car for two solid minutes before getting out. Alfred takes one look at Bruce’s face and he knows. He walks stiffly to the Batcomputer and puts his tray down. No one else would notice, but he leans there for a moment. 

          The boys struggle with Jason’s weight and Bruce moves to help them. They get him up on a table and Alfred gently starts to clean his wounds. His hands are shaking, but no one says a thing. Bruce doesn’t want Damian to come down and see this, but he knows his son too well. It’s only a matter of time.  

          He walks down into a deeper part of the cave, tugging out his phone and staring at his contacts. He needs to call Selina to tell her what happened, but he also needs to call Clark to get ahold of a stasis pod. He should call Leslie. He should call Lucius.  

          He can’t call any of them. 

          He sinks down against the wall, pulling his cowl off. Bruce stares at it for a long time, tilting his head back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut.  _You promised him_. 

          Bruce tugs out his phone again and presses Clark’s contact. He won’t care how early it is. It rings once. Twice. Three times. 

          “ _Hello?_ ” 

          Bruce taps his phone against his head, trying to find something to say. 

          “ _Bruce? Are you there?_ ” 

          He pulls his knees close to his chest, placing a hand on his forehead as his breaths start to shake again. He’s certain Clark can hear it. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. The emotionless Batman doesn’t exist now. It’s only Bruce, and Bruce is  _raw_.  

          “ _What do you need?_ ” 

          Normally, Bruce would coldly state what he needs, but he can’t do that. “I-… I need a stasis pod as soon as you can.” 

          Clark doesn’t question him. “ _On it. I’ll see you soon, Bruce_.” 

          Bruce sits there for two hours, slowly drawing up the will to call the people who should know. It takes all of his willpower to approach Jason’s body for his phone, the boys and Alfred long gone. Roy should know.  

          It rings only once before he picks up. “ _Yello?_ ” 

          “Roy?” 

          He hesitates. “ _Mr. Wayne. What did you need, and why do you have Jason’s phone?_ ” 

          Bruce sucks in a sharp breath. “Jason is…” Bruce stops, not wanting to say it even though the proof is right in front of him. There isn’t a single part of him that doesn’t protest the knowledge. “Jason is dead.” 

          He hears a crashing on the other end as Roy most likely stumbles. He asks what happened, but he sounds dazed. Bruce knows just how well sounding dazed can hide or be any number of emotions. In Bruce’s case, it’s heartbreak. In Roy’s, it’s more like shock. 

          “There was a fire in an apartment building, and he went in. The fire department’s response time…  _our_  response time wasn’t fast enough. It collapsed with him inside.” Bruce stops himself before his voice can break. “He’s… he’s in the cave if you want to see him.” 

          “ _Y-yeah. Thanks for calling Mr._ _Wayne._ _I’ll be there soon._ ” 

          Roy doesn’t hang up, so neither does Bruce. He listens to Jason’s friend muffle his crying into something as he comes to grips with what’s happening. The stunted swearing between sobs is obvious enough, and he doesn’t try to hide how he’s feeling even through Jason and Bruce weren’t always on the greatest of terms. 

          “ _Was he in any pain_?” 

          Bruce doesn’t know. “No.” 

          He can almost see Roy nodding on the other side of the line. “ _Good. That’s… good. I’ll swing by in about twenty_.” 

          “I’ll be here. The other boys are in the manor if you wanted to see them too.” 

          “ _All right. Goodbye, Mr. Wayne_.” 

          Roy hangs up and Bruce puts Jason’s phone down next to his side. He leans on the table, hanging his head. Jason looks decently peaceful, any traces of blood wiped away by Alfred. The only clue as to what happened is the dark bruise on his cheek.  

          Bruce feels more than hears Clark drift in behind him. He lets him approach, not really minding his attempt at being silent. The quiet sound he makes when he doesn’t find Jason’s heartbeat is too soft. “Bruce.” 

          “I know, Clark.” 

          “Then you also know that the stasis tube can’t bring him back. Only preserve his body.” 

          Bruce nods. “He asked me not to bury him.” 

          Clark sets the pod down. “Why?” 

          Bruce closes his eyes, shaking his head in lieu of an answer. He doesn’t want to tell Clark why, so Clark simply opens the pod for Bruce to put Jason inside when he’s ready. He speeds out of the cave wearing an expression that makes Bruce want to rush to the Lazarus Pit. Bruce changes Jason out of his uniform, looking to the glass case next to his own. Bruce had taken down the one with his Robin uniform because Jason hated it so much. He shakes his head, going to the changing rooms and putting all of Jason’s clothes and tools into his locker. He brings back a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, putting them on his son and placing him in the pod.  

          He pushes the pod to a more secluded section of the cave, ensuring that the environment is open without being exposed. If any of his brothers or friends spend time near him, that’s what they’d want. Bruce can still see the room from his station at the computer, but it’s out of the way enough that he’s not on display. He looks like he’s sleeping, and Bruce can’t help but notice how gentle he seems. 

          “Mr. Wayne?” 

          “Over here, Roy.” 

          The wayward archer slinks into the space, as if unsure of his welcome. He’s hunching a little, his hat shading his eyes and his jacket rumpled. He approaches the glass, staring at Jason with something like loneliness in his eyes. They search his motionless form, as if looking for answers that only Jason could give. 

          “You were there, weren’t you?” Roy says quietly. 

          “Yes.” 

          Roy looks to Bruce, taking in everything about him. Bruce lets him. Roy comes to the realization that Jason died in Bruce’s arms fairly swiftly, but he doesn’t offer up any words for it. He doesn’t need to.  

          “You can be here as much as you want, Roy. If you want to.” 

          “Thanks, I guess.” he mumbles, eyes dropping to the floor.  

          Bruce rests a hand on his shoulder, noting the way Roy’s jaw clenches as he holds back his emotions. It’s such a familiar action that it takes him a moment to realize that it’s what Jason always does. _Or did_. 

          Roy offers quiet condolences and Bruce does the same, watching him pass out of the room and towards the exit.  

          Once Roy is gone, Bruce’s life becomes a blur of the same. He goes to WE, works, attends business meetings and comes home to fight crime. Tim visits on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Dick is down in the cave off and on. Roy spends an hour helping Bruce if he can every Monday and Wednesday. Damian will stare at Jason’s pod for five minutes before patrol and then leave with Bruce. Alfred brings him coffee when he’s working from the cave, telling him he should sleep. The days that fly by are remarkably the same and Bruce finds himself just going through the motions: take Damian to school, work at WE, go home to the cave, patrol, and sleep for two hours. Repeat. 

           _Repeat._  

           **_Repeat._ ** 


	2. Return

          Bruce doesn’t feel much, simply running on autopilot. When he’s Batman, that automatically goes away, but only marginally. He can tell that his other children are much the same. He feels cold. Only one thing has really changed in the manor, and it’s the amount of times Bruce tells his children that he loves them every day. Even going through the motions, that’s one thing that Bruce will never stop doing. He’s told it to Roy by accident, but Roy doesn’t correct him. He supposes it must be nice for Roy, who is so much like Jason.

          It’s only after six months that Bruce manages to do something different.  

          He gets up from the Batcomputer after staring at it for hours upon hours. He’s been sifting through video footage of different bank robberies around town. They’re connected, but Bruce hasn’t found the link yet. He’s also watching the news as a reporter talks about the prolonged absence of the Red Hood. Business is still running smoothly, as the crime bosses still believe that he’s alive. Jason disappears sometimes, so that’s not a shock. It’s better they don’t know the truth. Bruce doesn’t want to imagine the power vacuum.  

          He treads over to Jason’s case, looking up at his expression. Some days, he looks serene, but today he looks pained to Bruce. There’s something different about him that Bruce can’t place, but it has to be something physical. If he looks at the right angle, it almost seems as if the bruise on his face has faded some. 

          Bruce freezes in place as a breath fogs out against the glass.  

          Jason's eyes snap open and Bruce is completely paralyzed for a moment as his dead son begins to thrash. Giving himself a shake, he opens the pod and catches Jason as he falls forward. He coughs violently, gasping as he finds it difficult to bring in air.  

          “ _B-Bruce. B, h_ _elp me. B, please_.” 

          Bruce lowers him to the ground, mindful of his shoulder and chest where his internal injuries were the worst. “I’m right here, kiddo. Just take it easy.”  

          Jason suddenly bursts into tears, clutching to Bruce like his life depends on it. Bruce cradles his head as well as possible, flashbacks like lightning in his mind as he holds onto Jason the same way he had only minutes before his death. His breaths are fluttery and similar to a wheeze, but at least he’s breathing. 

          “ _M’so cold_ _._ ” Jason pants, shivering. 

          “Just stay right here, all right? Don’t move an inch.” 

          Jason stills as Bruce runs to grab a blanket. Just like Bruce said, he doesn’t move. Bruce tugs three thick blankets around Jason’s shoulders when he returns, wrapping his arms around him and planting a kiss on his head. Jason is an emotional mess, but he’s smiling at Bruce’s overbearing reaction to every one of his needs. Bruce tries to keep from smothering him, but he has to be sure Jason is real. He has to be sure that he’s not dreaming. 

          It would break him if he were. 

          Bruce pulls back, holding the sides of Jason’s face gently in his hands. “How are you back, kiddo?” 

          Jason shakes a bit harder, Bruce gripping more tightly to his son. “I t-told you I would be, didn’t I?” 

          Bruce laughs, tears falling to the floor. “You did, kiddo. I know you did.” He pushes Jason’s hair aside to check his temperature and the wound on his head. Jason tries to assure him that he’s mostly fine, but that doesn’t cut it. Bruce is far too fearful to back off that easily. He almost doesn’t believe what he’s seeing, but it’s Jason sitting right in front of him alive and healthy(ish).  

          “Are you in any pain?” 

          Jason shakes his head, calming some now that Bruce has come back to his senses a little. “I’m just... I’m sore. Really sore.” 

          “That’s good.” 

          Jason shrugs, watching Bruce as he goes to get the first aid kit. He checks Jason’s eyes, reaction time, and everything that he can possibly look at until Jason finally stops him with a quiet utterance of his name. 

          Bruce settles down next to him without answering, pulling Jason close and carefully pressing another kiss to the top of his head. He pulls back, eyes gleaming with fresh tears. It doesn’t slip his notice that the white streak in his hair seems even more stark than before. He really doesn’t care, a laugh bubbling out of him that he can’t stop. 

          Jason blinks. “What’s that for?” 

          “I love you, Jason.” He pulls him into another hug. “I love you so much.” 

          He nods, leaning into Bruce’s shoulder and closing his eyes. Before Bruce realizes it, Jason is snoozing along right there on the ground with him. He’d forgotten that Jason could fall asleep anywhere, so it’s nice to be reminded of the way his boy sleeps. He picks Jason off the floor, carrying him up to the manor steps where the others are sure to be having breakfast by now. 

          Alfred frowns upon seeing him. “Master Bruce, what are you-” 

          Jason snores rather loudly, curling into Bruce’s chest a bit more and going quiet again.  

          Damian stares, his jaw dropping open with a chunk of pancake mere inches from his lips. Tim’s coffee mug drops to the floor, shattering all over the place. Alfred steps closer, a hand reaching out as his eyes fill with a semblance of hope. 

          “Can it be?” 

          “It is, Alfred. He’s back.” 

          He puts one hand over Jason’s where it’s resting over his stomach, a shaky breath leaving his mouth that none but the Bats would notice. “How?” 

          Bruce chuckles softly, holding onto him a little tighter. “It doesn’t matter. My son is back.” He leans his head against Jason’s, closing his eyes. “He’s alive. _My son is alive_.” 


End file.
